


Sleep. Dinner. Proper Place to Shag. (Or How to Woo Your Co-worker in Three Parts)

by beautifullyheeled



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Diagnostician Sherlock, Doctor John, John is a Very Good Doctor, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sherlock is Very Good at His Job, Snogging, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2473022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullyheeled/pseuds/beautifullyheeled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's long day just got a bit longer, but now he has someone to share it with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Prompt Meme fill for Taters169.
> 
> Meeting in the E.R/A&E Alternate Universe. 
> 
> I love these two idiots.

John had had a hell of a night, well that was to say a very busy night. It wasn’t exactly hell when your veins were singing and your heart remained at a steady, but elevated, rate not unlike a good cardio session with a hot partner. Quick tangle of limbs, scrubs removed just enough. It was amazing, the things you could do in the little nooks and hidden crannies of an old hospital. 

Right now though, John was looking for a quiet room to come down in. His shift in the A&E was only supposed to be a twelve hour rota, but it had been extended to eighteen with that other surgery and then twenty-six with that officer... long day. He admitted to himself he missed it. Days like this where you could just keep up and everything turned out ‘good’ and ‘right’ with minimal to no loss. This may not be Afghanistan, but some nights, it was still a battlefield. 

Turning down into a darkened corridor, he opened his usual bolthole and shucked his scrub top immediately. There was an old shower he’d make use of and some extra sundries and clothes he’d thrown into one of the old lockers. Later, he promised himself. For now a few hours sleep and then back at it. As his back hit the low bed, he groaned low, his shoulder aching. 

“Just coming off a long shift?”

John was instantly awake. “Who’s there?” It wasn’t that he was terribly worried, it was just, well, unusual to have anyone here. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

“Sorry, needed a shower, been in the morgue for hours myself, though not for the usual reasons.” 

The response was dry; acerbic in wit. Who was this man? “So, you’re a pathologist here?”

“Ah, no. Detective. Consulting on a case. I rarely sleep and use this bunk area if I can’t make it back to mine. You shouldn’t mind sharing, ex-military and all.” The man came forward on stockinged feet, his body covered only by a pair of too short scrub trousers and the towel currently in his hand drying his longish hair. Well, long to John at any rate. “Impressive scar; could have been much worse, yes?”

He realised then he had indeed shucked his vest with his top. Not as if he were embarrassed. John allowed his own eyes to wander then, take in the flat wiry frame in front of him. He sat up straight and threw his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hitting the lino. Might as well give him a good look then. “Yes, could have... and you got ex-military from that?”

“That, your hair, the slight posture and intonation change. A million tiny little tells that we all carry with us, really.” The man extended his hand, and almost touched him. But not quite. “Still a bit buzzed from your adrenaline high? Not as much of one as you would have had in an active war zone, but the streets of London can be quite thrilling.”

“Amazing. Most don’t-”

“Most are idiots,” The man bit at his lower lip, then cocked his eyebrow. “I am not.”

Well, he wouldn’t be, would he, John mused to himself. “No; no you aren’t.” 

“Tell me, doctor, do you mind this?”John felt his skin prickle as he coloured; he’d been caught out, but the light of curiosity that was in the other man’s eyes as they sized one another up had gone from a twinkle to a smoulder, so he certainly seemed to feel similarly. Interested, that was.

“Mind what?” His pulse had kicked up a notch as the handsome stranger knelt between his knees. John licked at his lips as they were suddenly very papery feeling. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Getting rid of the height advantage. Obvious.” The light coloured eyes crinkled at the edges as their owner smiled mischievously. His fingers brushed at John’s chin, barely pressing up against the stubble he’d had planned on dealing with after his nap. “Do you mind sharing?”

“No. No, I don’t.” He leaned forward then, just enough, and met the almost colourless lips with his own. The hand that had steadied his chin just a moment ago, moved and rested on his good shoulder. Oh, god, could the man kiss. It was like a strategic invasion come to perfect fruition. Their mouths moved together a bit loosely, there were expert licks and meetings of hot breath and tongues with the slight hint of teeth against tender skin. 

John knew the cold lino had to be uncomfortable, so he bodily moved the other man, pulling him up and pressing him onto the mattress against the wall side, leaving his back against the room. Both of them were already half naked to begin with and, bloody hell, the scrubs were doing nothing to hide their mutual erections. Halfway into another deep kiss, his hands roaming the skin that was available to him, he began to chuckle between them.

“What... What?” The man had pulled back and was looking at him as if he were just as put out as he sounded. 

“This is... it’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done...” 

“I highly doubt that... you invaded Afghanistan?”

“Not on my own!” John was laughing now in earnest as his fingers played in the wild curled hair. “I don’t even know your name... you don’t know mine.”

“Sherlock Holmes,” The man’s hands had yet to roam against John, but remained warm against his shoulders as he spoke and pulled John just that much closer. “Consulting detective; graduate chemist, amongst other things. Jack-of-all. That enough to be going on with?”

He chuckled again and kissed Sherlock breathless. “Name’s John. John Watson.”

“Too ordinary,” Sherlock was nipping at his throat as he spoke. John couldn’t hide the shiver that ran through him. It, this, this was illicit. Hot. Oh, god did he have a mouth on him.

“I... like my name. Ta.” He shuffled up a bit on the mattress as Sherlock was becoming more exploratory. “It’s serviceable thank you very much.”

“Shut up and kiss me. If you’re going to use your mouth, use it in a way you’re good at.”

“You are a twat,” John flipped him then, pressing Sherlock to the linens under him partially tangling the long legs. “For that, you’ll have to wait for a proper date now. No quick shag for you.”

“John-” The baritone dropped a half-octave and Sherlock rolled his hips, grinding his erection against John’s thigh. “You can’t- I’m in misery.” He was obviously needy, but in a false way; a lover’s tease as if they’d been a couple for ages. “And you’re still very interested...”

“No. Sleep for the both of us, then you’ll take me out to Chinese.”

“But John,” Sherlock kissed him again, no quarter this time. Fingers in his hair and the shower warm chest pressed firm against his own. “This would put us both quickly towards slumber, the relaxation rate post-coitus is-”

”Shut that beautiful mouth and listen. Sleep. Proper date. Then I’ll take you home and... well, we’ll see.” Two could play at this game. John pressed his thigh back against Sherlock’s length and felt dampness between their thin cotton trousers. “Oh, so wanting... are we?”

“You have no idea how long-”

“That long?”

“Oh, shut up.”

They both were laughing now, their hands more relaxed in their touch. It felt good. Interesting. Most certainly not mundane as sex with a relative stranger could be. They had a spark, John could feel it simmering between them. Wanted to see it properly glow. 

“Look, honestly, I... one proper date. You’re all bones anyway and look like you could get a decent carb-loading so you don’t pass out during a rather impressively enthusiastic bout of sex, yeah?” It was his turn to slowly lap and nip. To worry a sweet blooming mark against the throat exposed to him. “I promise, I’ll make it worth the wait, Sherlock.”

“Did you know you could tell the better Chinese restaurants by the wear on the lower parts of the door handles-” Sherlock hand snuck a hand between them and caressed John’s very interested cock through his scrubs. 

The touch about short circuited his plans. “Sherlock...” He pulled a breath through his teeth and closed his eyes. “Fuck, that is lovely... seriously. But-”

“Sleep. Dinner. Proper place to shag.” 

“Yes.”

“Fine.” 

John moved slowly off the body below him and poked and prodded until Sherlock was curled towards the wall and he was tight against his back, thin covers over them. 

“It’ll be so much better. Proper fucking, I promise.” He bit at the shoulder close to his mouth. 

Sherlock covered one of his hands with his own. It was strangely intimate, but welcome. Their bodies were slotted sort of awkwardly together as he was shorter, but Sherlock did not seem to mind being the little spoon of the equation. “Better be for making me wait.”

“Shut it, Sherlock.”

“Sleep, John.”


	2. Chapter 2

His mobile alarm woke him a few quiet hours later. He was _warm_ and snugged close to the body against him; it felt nice to have a body to wake with. The person responded, holding him closer as well, their erection brushed along his exposed stomach. 

_Sherlock_

“Good morning, John.”

“Hmm, yes.” He finally opened his eyes and were met with sea glass coloured ones; Sherlock’s head nestled very close to his own. John tipped up just enough to brush their lips together. “Very good morning.” 

“Well, evening actually. Night if you wish to be technical.” The smile that broke Sherlock’s face was sweet, small; almost goofy. “Seems we both have similar issues... shall we take care of them before getting dressed or are you going to make us wait?” 

He rolled his hips slightly and bit at John’s lip.

John immediately laughed. “Nononononono. Sherlock. Dinner first.”

“Fine.” Sherlock kissed him once more then began to disentangle himself. 

He couldn’t help but to grip at the skin leaving his fingers, letting them skate along uninterrupted until they finally hit the scrubs loosely tied at Sherlock’s hips. He pulled him close and planted a wet kiss to the jutting hipbone, nipping at the tender skin. “Patience. We need food-”

“Boring.”

Sherlock wiggled away and shucked his bottoms before padding over the cold lino and opening one of the lockers. He bent, giving a bit of a show and slipped on a pair of sinfully tight dark coloured briefs. John growled quietly and adjusted himself. It seemed he needed to remind himself as well that dinner was necessary as were the supplies that neither of them had. Most likely. He might have... no, this would be great. Extended foreplay. That was how he’d look at it. How it was. John smiled and rolled off of the mattress himself, going over to a locker close to his... date, to Sherlock, and began dressing himself into street clothes as well. 

“So, Chinese?” John decided he could most certainly be an adult about this. “Close to your place, is it?”

“In proximity, yes. I actually found it after solving a particularly gruesome triple homicide.”

“You... solved?” He glanced over his shoulder as he buttoned down his shirt. “With an Inspector there, yea? Or were there actual vigilante justice adrenaline junkie antics involved?” 

Who was John to judge, he himself had been involved in more firefights then he could properly remember. Sherlock though, he was a civilian. Perhaps that had been a bit not good?

“Gregson is the D.I. that I help from time to time, so yes John, I was mostly safe if that is what you are alluding to. This one was uncomplicated... a four at most.”

John turned and placed a hand at Sherlock’s waist, gripping at it a little. “Hey, not judging. Just. I like this body, yea? Want to get a chance to explore it until we are both bored to death of each other is all.”

Sherlock looked up from his own placard and buttons. “Promises, promises.” 

He could feel his face settle into an exasperated half-smile. This man was going to be a handful. That was it. End of story. But was a gorgeous handful it was. John pulled himself close enough to brush a rough kiss against the side of Sherlock’s mouth and went back to dressing. His fingers itched for more. It was intoxicating, touching Sherlock. Hadn’t been this way with others in years. This quick spark that was keeping his libido on a low seemingly-permanent simmer.

“I always keep my promises.” 

Sherlock laughed quietly beside him. “I do hope so.”

Dressing hadn’t taken much longer for either of them. When they finally stepped out of forgotten side exit from Bart’s aged brick walls crisp air met them, crackling as the mood turned to something a bit _more_. John brushed against Sherlock’s arm, just a nudge and then tangled their fingers, bringing the long, slender ones to his lips for a breathless kiss before releasing them completely. 

“John-”

“So, this chinese. We are eating _in_ , yes? Not take-away?”

It was Sherlock’s turn to quietly laugh. “Yes, John. Ah, taxi. Perfect.” 

John turned his head to see a taxi stop at barely a wave of the diagnostician’s hand. Amazing. Was he a part-time wizard too? To be able to get a cab like that at this time of night with such ease... he chalked it up to a good omen and quickly snugged in beside Sherlock as he rattled off an address not far from his very own flat. Interesting. How many times had they almost crossed paths, John wondered. 

He kept this to himself as his mind began to spin small, lusty little scenarios. 

“So, you have questions?”

“You said consulting detective... mentioned the murder, but you clearly work at Bart’s?”

“My title is indeed diagnostician at Bart’s, but I tend to dabble in the morgue which led me to helping the police when they are grievously out of order. Surprisingly, it is often. I know. I don’t how they stay in business with some of the ineptitude- Anderson alone-”

“I’ve heard his name? Isn’t he the one that was caught with that-”

“Yes, please. Let’s stop this before we both lose our appetites both physically and metaphorically.”

The laugh couldn’t be helped. He licked his lips and bit at his lower one a bit more harshly than intended. “Yes, well... how about your team then?”

“Oh, they are serviceable. The work is satisfying on an intellectual level... but yours. Yours is much more visceral. Tell me, are the clinic hours boring for you as well? Certainly not the ‘high-energy’ of the operating theatre out in the desert is it?”

“Yea, actually, how did you know?” 

“Tan still visible at your collar line, same with your wrists. Your face is a bit weathered for an Englishman who’s lived on home soil his entire life, so both are not recreational, but from longer term exposure.” His long fingers traced John’s jaw, across his throat to his scar at his shoulder. “That, along with your scar. Bullet. Close proximity too, so in a combat situation, but you didn’t notice them so someone was supposed to have your back... that person was the one you were trying to save was it not?”

The question had softened his voice, as if he could _see_ the truth of what he was saying and didn’t want to upset John, but still had the temerity to ask.

“Yes.” His breath caught as he fondly remembered his friend. “You grow close, you know. He was a good man. Kept me safe until he didn’t.”

“They rebuilt your scapula and you have pins in your clavicle, but there was nominal nerve damage even though the trauma to the musculature was considered serious.”

“Jesus. Sherlock, I-”

“It’s alright, John. You have to understand, most people see, but they do not observe.”

“And you _see_ everything, don’t you?” His fingers on his left hand curled a few times out of reflex. “It’s... well... it’s brilliant. Honestly. Amazing.”

“That’s not normally what people say.”

Good, the levity was back again. John hoped to keep it there. “Bet they tell you to piss off more often than not.”

The quiet smile and blush that coloured Sherlock’s cheeks before he answered told the whole story. “Obvious.” 

The cabbie cleared his throat. 

They both exchanged a look and laughed before alighting to the curb and the bustle of London at night. John was surprised that there wasn’t as much foot traffic as there should be, but then he remembered it was close to one in the morning. The neighborhood portion did tend to quiet down a bit even though busy mains surrounded it. It was it’s own little pocket universe where only they existed it seemed. 

Good for a first date.

Sherlock strode past him in two swift steps and opened the door. 

He raised his eyebrow and smiled, shaking his head minutely in jest before he noticed the lower part of the handle of the door. Well worn. Sherlock was a show off.

John realised didn’t seem to mind.

Once seated, Sherlock quickly ordered in some dialect of Chinese and then smiled at John winningly. John could only shake his head and giggle. Yes, peacock levels of show-off. More than. This was a courting-dance... a mating show and John had a front row seat. It tickled him to no end. Perhaps his flat was littered with all-sorts as well. A bowerbird that wooed with crime scenes or diagnostics stapled to the walls... old books littering the place... as long as it had a good sized bed for their after dinner activities, the rest would be... interesting. What would a resident genius have on his walls anyway?

“So.. um, you speak-”

“Cantonese, yes.”

“So what did you order?” John reached across and brushed his fingers along the back of Sherlock’s hand keeping eye contact. “Because that was brilliant, that, and unexpected.”

“Yes, it was. It is.” 

He knew Sherlock saw right through him and he had to stop himself from blushing with... well he didn’t exactly know. John was a grown man and he was going to maintain that for the rest of the date, not go all... flustered as if this were his first go round the block. 

“Not talking about the food are you?”

“You weren’t either.” Sherlock flipped his hand palm up to meet the light touch and caressed John’s fingers. God did his hands look smaller in comparison. It did something odd to him. A different type of warmth. Ridiculous. 

“So, you’re single... like me. Completely unattached?”

Sherlock’s eyebrows creased together. “Problem?”

“No, no. I just... it’s been a while, and if _this_ is, well if it is going to be something...”

“You prefer not to share. Monogamy. Which speaks of quite a few interesting things about you, John. Either possessiveness or jealousy issues. The former rather than the later I believe.” He leaned conspiratorially over the round table. “Perhaps you’d just like to know the only one marking... _well_... is you?”

“Yea, alright.” He was flushed and there was nothing to do for it. “You’ve got it in one.”

“Oh, this is delicious.” He stated just as the food arrived.

It certainly looked that way. An assortment of family style dim-sum had been arranged at their table served with a bottle of wine. John didn’t recognise the label, but he was more of a scotch or lager man himself. He took a sip and was surprised to be met with a full sweet flavor. It would go well with the selection he thought as he popped a dumpling in his mouth. 

“Yes, it is.” John winked at Sherlock and bumped his ankle under the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you who are reading along: Thank You!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT SMUT SMUT. 
> 
> You do not have to read this to enjoy the fic or resolve the ending.   
> Think of it as the cherry on top!

Dinner, breakfast... what ever the meal was for them was wonderful. John had found that most of the dishes had been vegetarian as well. Sherlock had made sure to tell him which ones John wouldn’t want and set them closer to himself. How he’d figured out the vegetarianism was another mystery. 

“Sherlock, come on.” John laughed brightly even as his date shook his head. “We can’t laugh at crime scenes.”

This had Sherlock stopping to give John a confused glance. “Crime scenes?”

“Well, there will be one if we don’t get back to that flat of yours.” He wrapped his arm low across Sherlock’s back and pulled him close enough to have to look up into his eyes. “Wouldn’t do for two grown men to get an ASBO for indecency, now would it?”

“We aren’t indecent-”

John pushed up and claimed Sherlock’s lips tasting plum wine and the slight spice still on his tongue from dinner. Oh God, was it gorgeous. He licked into his mouth, pulling in a breath, at the same time breathing for them both. He felt Sherlock stiffen for a half a second before he melted completely and grabbed John into his arms. They had been close to a wall, John remembered so he turned them around and moved quickly to press Sherlock against it. Except it was an alley access. And was brick. But it was all fine as far as they were concerned. 

His hands roamed under the voluminous coat, squeezing at the ample arse that was plush... softer that it had any right to be knowing the rest of the body. John knew it was a trick of sorts; all Sherlock had to do was flex... like that and it went firm under his nails. Sherlock was more than half-hard now against John’s stomach, and how wonderful was that? He brought a hand around and pressed it to the covered length, squeezing and rolling to give added friction.

Sherlock whined into his mouth and gripped at his hair before breaking their kiss. 

“What happened to proper, John?” His hips pressed forward into John’s hand. “Proper bed. Proper supplies. Proper _fucking_.” 

Each word was punctuated with a nip or a teasing lick or nip leading to John’s ear. Sherlock knew exactly what he was doing, could feel John’s breathing pick up. John knew this because he was trying to stay a little level and still maintain the light buzz from the alcohol but relax into _this_.

“I warned you... you just had to look all cool with your... glaz eyes and your perfect cheekbones.” John leaned his head back, giving Sherlock better access to his throat. “There should be a constellation named for you.” 

“What do I want with stars?”

John pulled away a bit to capture Sherlock’s mouth again in a filthy hot kiss and pressed himself against Sherlock’s thigh; oh, hell. He was in for it. He palmed at Sherlock once again as he thrust slowly against his leg, letting Sherlock feel the girth through his trousers. “I’ll show you stars, Sherlock Holmes.”

He backed off then, feeling the chill of the night air instantly, and grabbed at Sherlock’s hand yanking him away from the brick of the old building and down a few more doors to Sherlock’s. John giggled as Sherlock fumbled with his keys momentarily almost dropping them in his haste, but soon enough he had gotten the right of them and they were inside and snogging up against the wall with the coat pegs. 

“No, no...” Sucking in a breath he flipped them so that Sherlock was once again against the wall and removed his coat and hung it, then worked on Sherlock’s arms. “Come on, use that beautiful brain a bit. Keep up.” 

Sherlock just untangled his now tangled self and hung his coat before pulling John up the stairs chastising him in a flirtatious way to not wake his land-lady, or they would have to entertain her instead of themselves. John took this very seriously and stayed quiet, expressly not giggling until they were in Sherlock’s flat, where he promptly lost it. 

It _was_ a magpie’s nest of all-sorts and most likely wonderful things. 

Sherlock looked a mite chagrined, which John just had to stop. “No, it’s wonderful... I thought it would be... this is _you_...” He laughed and kissed at Sherlock, wrapping his arms quickly around his neck. “You’re showing off. You’re simply amazing, my brilliant lark. Bet you can sing to?”

“I play the violin, hardly talk for days-” John cut him off with a sharp suck at the base of his throat, dragging his teeth across the mark for good measure. “And keep very busy most-”

“Most of the time. Yes, Sherlock. Doctor, too?” 

He ravished the kiss-reddened lips, claiming them again to make sure there were _less_ words and more snogging, his fingers busy with removing Sherlock’s jacket and then working the buttons out of the placket down his chest. John gave Sherlock a sunny smile as he yanked the shirt out of his perfectly fitted trousers and dropped it on to the mismatched overstuffed chair closest to them leaving Sherlock’s chest bare in the moonlight that was filtering into the room. 

His hands firmly gripped at Sherlock’s hips as he leveled him with a gaze. “I want you naked, in your bed, now. Please.”

“You, John, are a very, very bad man.” Sherlock chuckled deeply before biting at his lower lip. 

The long fingers he’d become entranced with gripped at his own and led him down through the kitchen and into the depths of the single floor flat to Sherlock’s room. He turned on the bathroom light as they passed, but closed the door. Curious until John noted that the bath had a stained glass pocket door that lead directly into Sherlock’s which allowed for diffused _romantic_ lighting. 

“Sherlock-”

That was all John had time to get out before those nimble fingers were stripping him and making him moan and Oh-My-God-Yes-there. Sherlock had him topless and was working on his trousers as John worked on his and they were a tangle of hands and frotting. It was wonderful. Sherlock’s mouth found his, messily kissing him as he backed up to his own bed and sat down.

“Expedience; you do yours, I’ll do mine.”

“Simply brilliant.” John had to agree. 

He sat as well, half-undone and pulled off his shoes and socks, tucking them just under the bed then stood and pulled off his trousers to leave on the floor with his shirt. Sherlock had divested himself of everything except those sinful dark pants. John could see that he was hard. So hard that the tip of him was just peeking out over the slim band. 

“Jesus, Sherlock... you are.” John wanted him in his mouth. Now. It was imperative. He licked his lips, sucking the lower one in. He had to stop himself from doing just that. Soon, in time, but... 

“I know.” His voice was soft. “I know. Me too.” 

“Yea. Soon.” John slotted himself between Sherlock’s legs and trailed his fingers along the cloth. “I want to taste you so very, very much.”

“Come here, John.” Sherlock rearranged himself to lay on the bed expecting John to follow. He did. How could he not. “Drawer. Lube, Condoms... gloves?”

“Not unless you want... yea. It’s fine.” John pulled everything out and laid them on the bedside within reach. “Something tells me you enjoy this; the not having to think part.”

“No, I enjoy the _you_ part. You’re careful.” Again his voice was soft; calmer. “Come here.”

He pulled John up against him as if were almost nothing, but then again John didn’t fight it at all. It felt decadent, the skin to skin save their pants. A bit uni... but sweet. He pressed them together and thrust his hips gently, sipping a kiss as he did so. Oh, this could be slow. It would kill him, but he could do it. The groan that was pulled from Sherlock was indecent. It was perfect. 

John moved down, kissing at Sherlock’s chest as he spoke. “I need you.”

His hands pulled away and down at his own pants then moved to pull of Sherlock’s as well. He did risk one small lick, close to the base, as his mouth had just grazed a hip to distract from him putting on the glove. John worked a small love bite against the soft stomach as he lubed his fingers and stroked at Sherlock’s cock, pumping slowly. 

“John-” His name sounded like pure sex. 

“Yea? Alright.” His fingers pressed between Sherlock’s cleft as he raised his legs. “Easy, right?”

Sherlock was hot. He barely got one finger in before realising he could easily take two just after a few steadying strokes inside. John crooked his fingers, slowly fucking him with them as he kissed the inside of his thighs. He realised then that Sherlock was hairless. The smoothness was welcome, if not almost viciously amusing. Given the slickness of his perineum and arse, John would say he waxed just for tonight, but he knew it couldn’t be.

“Case.” Came the breathy answer to the thought in his head. “Was the way you paused... do come on. Tease.”

John did laugh then and smack him on his arse. “Yes, dove. Just a tick.”

He pressed his third finger in testing the give and twisting them causing a high bit off keen to come from his lover. Smiling to himself, he pulled his fingers out, removed the glove, and balled it in on itself then chucked it in the wastebin just beside the bed. Sherlock was open and vulnerable; watching. John tore into one of the condom sachets and slowly rolled it on, giving him a bit of a show. 

“Worse than a tease...” Sherlock groaned as John sidled up and pressed just in and held. “Fuck.”

“That is the point.” John brushed aside a few curls on Sherlock’s forehead and kissed at his jaw as he pushed himself forward and in. 

“Cock-tease.” Came the muffled word. Muffled because Sherlock was trying to bite his fist. 

“None of that... want to hear you.” He soothed at he set a languid pace. Slow thrusts with a slight hitch, the depth a bit varied. “Come on then, it’s all right.”

“Harder, please, just-” Sherlock’s breath caught as John glanced just right. “John. There.”

“Yea?” 

John continued slowly, now making sure to press against his prostate every so often. It was wonderful watching Sherlock unravel underneath him, his legs wrapped around John’s waist. When he stroked Sherlock with his hand as well, he cried out a small string of nonsense and yanked John down for a kiss to shut himself up. John could feel his bollocks drawing up between them and knew he didn’t have long. 

“Fuck, Sherlock, you are perfect.” He kissed at him some more and raised the angle just a bit, turning it less sweet and more intense. His hips snapped as he thrust hard now, Sherlock practically dughis fingers into John’s shoulder and scalp as he held him close. The orgasm overtook him and John moved, holding him close; the short deep thrusts enough to pull him over as well. His stomach was covered with ejaculate... as were a few places on his chest. It was endearing. Ridiculous. Messily hot. 

“John. I... could you?” 

“Yea, love. Sorry.” He gingerly pulled away making sure to hold onto the condom and stood on wobbly legs to make his way into the bathroom to throw out the condom and get a flannel for them both. And a towel. “You are wonderful, you know.” He was all complimentary as he sat on the side of the bed and washed Sherlock then dried him. “This was wonderful.”

“Duvet’s wasted, but the linens will be clean.” Sherlock’s expression was hard to read. “You’ll be staying? Proper sleep since neither of us have shifts tomorrow?” 

“I don’t even have a toothbrush-”

“Use mine.” He smiled softly. “Not as if you weren’t just snogging the life out of me earlier.”

“Of course I’ll stay, but I’m not using your toothbrush.”

“Fine, bring one along next time then.”

“Next time? What if we are at mine-”

“Boring. Might as well move in now. Third and fourth are empty.”

John got under the covers after dumping their things into the hamper. “Don’t want me hogging the covers nightly then?”

“We’ll see. Might like someone to be a bed warmer... could be advantageous.” Sherlock rolled towards John and wrapped an arm around his waist lightly. “Think it over?”

“Will you let me say no?”

“Probably not. I’ll have a list by morning as to reasons why it would work to our advantage-”

His mouth found Sherlock’s neck and he kissed at it, not quite nuzzling. “Sherlock?”

“Yes, John?”

“Go to sleep.” 

“I only require, at most, five hours a night. I have-” John interrupted him with a kiss.

“Then let me have a kip and then we can have breakfast.”

“Then morning sex?”

He groaned loudly against Sherlock’s shoulder as if he were put out. 

“We’ll see. Kip now. Breakfast. Morning sex?”

“What is it with you and this obsession with threes?”

“Good night, Sherlock.”

“Goodnight, John.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to give you all a big hug and say thanks for reading this! It was so much fun to write and these two idiots are seriously vying for some NaNoWriMo time, but I think a Christmas case might be better so that I can focus on Aurors of Light. 
> 
> Let me know if you would like to see more of this AU!


End file.
